


the wonder in all of us

by levlinwinlaer



Series: the hogwarts au [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Hogwarts AU, in this fic lillian luthor is a Good Mother and Person, lena luthor gets the love she deserves, lex is a good kid, lillian luthor redemption arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-04-14 16:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14140284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levlinwinlaer/pseuds/levlinwinlaer
Summary: “Levicorpus!”Lillian strides out into the courtyard, frowning in worry, and crouches in front of Lena's hovering body. Lena gives her a weak smile and a wave, and she frowns deeper. “Lex, what were you thinking? A luteus, really?”“She can do it!” Lex protests.“I can do it,” Lena agrees halfheartedly, but Lillian gives them a look and they submit.or,The one where the Luthors did nothing wrong and Lena grows up with a family that loves her. The prequel (and sequel) to 'the wonder in me'.





	1. when everything's okay (as okay as they can be)

**Author's Note:**

> kind of a fix-it fic for the luthor family bc i love them.

Night.

The fog settles over England's moors like an oppressive, gloomy shadow, gathering tight around the castle perched on one of the cliffs. In the courtyard of the enormous house crouch two children, a boy and a girl.

“Watch,” the boy instructs, and then bites his thumb and slaps his hand to the soil where the blood falls. “Luthor blood spell!  _Viridans_!”

There's a spark of green, and it grows and grows and coils itself into a dragon with omniscient eyes.

“Whoa,” the little girl murmurs, eyes lit green by the dragon's soft glow.

“It's my Protector,” the boy says, reaching out, and the dragon allows the touch, scales shifting and rippling under the boy's little hand. “You've got one too. We all do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I bet in a few years you could do it too!”

Her eyes go even wider, hopeful and breathless. “Promise?”

The boy grins at her. “Promise.”

“Lex!” comes a call. The dragon twitches, dissipating. “Lex!” The porch door opens.

“What are you doing out so late?” Lillian says, frowning.

“Just showing Lena some of the blood spells,” Lex says with a shrug. “Cause, you know, she was Mudblood before.”

Lillian's face goes pinched for a second, but then it smooths into a blank smile. “Right. Go to bed, darlings. It's far too late for you two to be awake.”

 

“Mum used to be an Auror,” Lex whispers, when they're both huddled under the bedsheets. “One of the best, too. Someone said she was a shoo-in for Minister of Magic, but then something bad happened.”

“What?”

“I dunno. I reckon it was something bad with the Ministry. You know. Bureaucracy.”

“Bur-bureaucracy?”

“It's like a government thing, I think.” Lex frowns, swinging himself out of bed, and trotting over to the enormous leatherbound dictionary in his room. He flicks on a light and heaves it open, paging through. Lena, curious, climbs out of bed too and scampers over, standing on her tiptoes to look at the open pages. “Yeah, see? Excessive multiplication of administrators.”

Lena frowns, uncomprehending. “Right.”

Lex notices, and lowers his voice to a loud stage whisper. “Do you know what that means?”

“Nah,” Lena whispers back, and they hold the serious gazes for a few seconds before they burst out laughing, and Lillian comes in and scolds them for being out of bed so late.

 

Two years later, Lex goes to Hogwarts, and a nine-year old Lena, left to her own devices, begins to haunt the enormous Luthor library. She puppy-eyes her way into reading the Luthor blood spell scrolls, and ends up stumbling her way into getting a wand when Lillian gets fed up with her trying to use twigs to cast magic.

Lex comes home for winter break, filled with stories of a talking hat and moving staircases and platters of food that refill themselves, and Lena falls in love with Hogwarts from Lex's breathless descriptions of colour-changing ceilings and violent trees and enormous squids. Lillian listens to him with a wistful expression, and when they beg her to talk about her times, she laughs, and lets herself be pestered into telling some of the more risqué stories of her Hogwarts youth.

The nights before Lex leaves, he tugs Lena out into the courtyard.

“Try a blood spell,” he says. “You gotta!”

“Lex, I'm not a Luthor, you  _know_  I can't-“

“Try it,” he insists.

She sighs. “Luthor blood spell,” she recites obediently, biting her thumb. “ _Rubeus_!”

And the ground shifts.

It's just a flare of red, a little quiver of the earth, but Lena nearly falls over in shock. Lex shrieks in delight. “Again!” he shouts, “Again!”

Lillian comes rushing outside in a flutter of robes. “What's happening? Is someone hurt?”

“Mum, mum, Lena did a  _rubeus_! Show her!”

“ _Rubeus_!” she repeats, and again there's a little  _pop_  of soil. Lillian stares at it for a moment, tense and unmoving, and then she lets out a sigh, and turns to Lena.

“Good,” she says, and rests her hand on Lena's head, and Lena beams.

 

It is spring when Lionel dies, in an accident on the Auror training grounds.

There are rumours, of course. He had taken the Minister's husband as a lover, he had taken the Minister as a lover, he had been experimenting with the Unforgivables and had gotten out of hand, he had been too ambitious, the people he had taken advantage of had wanted revenge.

Lena puts on a show of mourning for the cameras. She only ever met him once, after all.

The funeral is a grand, pompous affair. The new Minister of Magic and the Headmaster of Hogwarts both attend, and Lena fidgets through three hours of long-winded speeches. When the guests leave, Lex tugs her out into the courtyard, pulling the heavy black mourning robes over his head and leaving them behind in a heap of darkness.

“Okay, okay,” he says excitedly. “This one's my favourite!  _Luteus_!”

“Luthor blood spell,” Lena says, his excitement bubbling contagiously inside of her, “ _luteus_!”

And for a second, there's a brilliant spark of yellow, but then Lena's vision blurs, and the ground rushes toward her, and-

“ _Levicorpus_!”

Lillian strides out into the courtyard, frowning in worry, and crouches in front of Lena's hovering body. Lena gives her a weak smile and a wave, and she frowns deeper. “Lex, what were you thinking? A  _luteus_ , really?”

“She can do it!” Lex protests.

“I can do it,” Lena agrees halfheartedly, but Lillian gives them a look and they submit.

That evening, Lillian burns the potatoes so badly that she has to cast an advanced water spell and then retreat for several minutes. She flicks the stove off with a look of contempt, and surveys the charred remains of her kitchen. “Well,” she says, and Lex tenses in anticipation, “pizza it is, I suppose.”

“Yeah!”

“Watch it, Lex.”

“Sorry, Mum.”

An hour later, when Lena's picking the anchovies of her slice (“Anchovies, Lex? Really? Do you have to make all of us suffer with you?”) and Lillian's still pretending that she doesn't like pizza (“We all know you like it, Mum. You've literally eaten half a box. You can stop pretending now.”), Lex leans forward and says,

“Hey! You know what's a good idea?”

“Elbows off the table, Lex. What?”

“If- when I went to Hogwarts- you taught Lena the blood spells!”

Lena goes tense, fragile with anticipation. Lillian softens.

“Of course,” she says matter-of-factly, wiping her hands on a napkin, “I only have twenty more scrolls of The Complete History of the Ancient Study of Blood Spells left to translate from Latin, and then I'll be free for as long as you like.”

“The Complete History of the Ancient Study of Blood Spells?” Lex repeats, wincing. “How many scrolls  _is_ that?”

“About two thousand.”

“Ew,” Lex says.

“Ew,” Lena chimes in.

“Ew,” Lillian agrees.

 

“ _C_ _onchylium_ ,” Lillian says a week later, looking down at Lena. “It's very similar to a  _Geminio_.”

“Okay,” Lena says.

“It's a cloning spell, of sorts, but it's very individualised. It replicates physical appearance, and, in extenuating circumstances, even the traits.”

Lena nods.

“Would you like to see it?”

This nod is far more enthusiastic, and Lillian hides her smile as she bites her thumb. “Luthor blood spell!  _Conchylium_!”

There's a spark of royal purple, and then suddenly Lena's looking at a carbon copy of herself.

“Hi,” she says tentatively.

“Hullo!” Other Lena chirps cheerfully. “I'm Lena Luthor.”

Lena scowls, feeling a little usurped. “No,  _I'm_  Lena Luthor. You're just a clone of me that Mum made. So there!”

Unnoticed behind her, Lillian tenses for a moment. And then she relaxes, tension seeping from her shoulders, and smiles.

 

Lena masters  _rubeus_ and  _conchylium_  in one season, and when summer comes, and with it, Lex, she has something to show for it.

They stand in the courtyard, Lena crouching slightly, Lex looking on in anticipation.

“Luthor blood spell,” Lena says. “ _Rubeus_!”

And the courtyard explodes.

Lillian's  _Levicorpus_ yanks them out of the way just in time, and Lex hoots excitedly, clapping his hands together. The moment Lillian sets them down, he sprints over, and shoves her affectionately.

“What!” he shouts. “That's so awesome! My  _rubeus_  doesn't even do half of that!”

A hand lands on both their heads, and Lillian gives them a stern look. “That's why you work harder. Both of you.” She ruffles Lena's hair. “Good.”

Lena smiles, gap-toothed and brilliant.

“Can we have pizza?” Lex asks, screwing his face up into a puppy face. It's not so effective now, that he's lost his baby fat and he's only a few inches shorter than Lillian, but she capitulates all the same. (“No anchovies this time, Lex.” “Aw! You take the fun out of everything.”).

 

When they're safely tucked in bed, Lillian draws her wand, and steps outside into the courtyard.

“Please,” she says, “do come out.”

A figure ripples into sight, sliding forth from the masking spell. “Impressive,” they say. “Though to be expected from such a prestigious witch.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.”

Lillian regards the figure calmly, assessing. “Then why are you at my house?”

There's a pause. “Your daughter,” the witch- likely a witch, from the traces of well-hidden magic, but the elemental tinge is odd- “is extraordinary.”

Lillian goes tense, her fist curling tight around her wand. “What do you want with my daughter?”

“I'm sure you know.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“She has potential to be better than even you. I would like to see a Minister of Magic be a Luthor- a good one, for once.”

“And you have chosen my daughter for such a purpose.”

“Tell me,” the figure says, soft and persuasive, “how many children can use blood spells before they turn ten? I imagine the only three on earth are here in this house of yours.”

“So you want me to- what? Give my daughter to you?”

“Imagine what she could become. I do honestly think that someday that child will be the Minister. All we need to do is help her along.”

Lillian laughs, cold and dry, “Help her? Please. I know all about the Auror training programme. Tell me, do I really seem like such a monster, to put my child through that hell?”

“Yes, the Auror training. You went through it at thirteen, didn't you? Such a shame that all your potential was wasted on a desk job.”

Lillian’s wand creaks warningly in her white-fisted grip.

“I wonder what you could be with a daughter as a Minister; the political influence, the accessible information, the  _power_. Imagine.”

Lillian thinks of a bright, easy smile, a frown of contemplation, a determined glint in little green eyes, thinks of dark dungeons and bleeding thumbs and wands that would not detach from your hand until you could be stronger _,_   _better_ , until the only thing in your mind was  _destroy_.

“No.”

The figure's tone is irritating, contemptuous. “You are hardly at your strongest, Luthor. All that- what do you call it?- research has really taken quite a toll. I could easily take her by force.”

“Then please,” Lillian says, lifting her wand and readying herself. “Do try.”

There's a pause, then a soft chuckle, and then Cat Grant melts out of the shadows, wearing a wry smirk and an Invisibility cloak.

“Thank you,” she says, “for proving me wrong.”

And then she's gone, Apparating away faster than Lillian can catch her.

 

The Aurors are, as Lillian predicted, unhappy with her decision. She ties them up with strings of magic and mails them back to the Ministry if they dare enter the premises; five of them in total. One wizard, a childhood prodigy who Lillian had gone to school with, manages to get inside the house.

She puts him under a sleeping spell and curses him with nightmares for a year, then mails him back like the rest.

And then an Auror shows up dead.

It's a gaping hole in his chest, masterfully made to look exactly like a product of Lillian's signature modified  _luteus_. There are murmurs, but not enough, and so they plant another body, just on the outskirts of her house. They're the same; the charred remains, the streaks of black around the hole, the scent of lightning around the body. More whispers. So another body. And another. And one more, just to be safe.

The whispers turn to talking. The Daily News speculates openly about the “Auror Mass Murder” and runs an opinion piece that bluntly accuses Lillian of being the killer.

The Ministry releases a statement that they would “take every measure to ensure that nothing like this should ever happen again”, and are applauded by the wizards and witches of Europe. The Aurors scent blood, and, three weeks later, they strike.

Lillian is put in handcuffs like a common criminal. The trial is a joke, really. The judge is an Auror who she had passed over for a promotion all those years ago. On the jury are four family members of the Aurors she supposedly killed. And, to top it off, they bring Lena and Lex in to watch her be paraded down the aisle like a purebred at a dog show.

She can see how their eyes practically roll back the moment Lena enters. Some of the more sensitive ones can sense how that enormous reserve of magic flares defensively, and they nod contentedly at each other with secret little smiles. The head of the Auror Training Programme (who is, of course, on the jury) is practically on the edge of his seat, salivating.

Lena frowns, ducks behind Lex, grabs his hand, and his magic forms itself into a shield, nearly solidifying. The Aurors watch that well-hidden flicker of blue magic, and murmur greedily among themselves.  _The boy, yes, he is brilliant. I'd nearly forgotten about him. At Hogwarts, and mastered the blood spells too. A good prize, yes. But we must have the daughter. Yes, we must have the daughter._

They accuse her. She pleads innocent. The jury files out and comes back twenty minutes later, with a verdict of guilty, as expected. The judge smiles in smug satisfaction.

“Well, Lillian Luthor, with the honour and power accorded me by this court, I do hereby sentence you to life in Azkaban. I place the custody of your children in the hands of Geoffrey Durriban, Head of the Auror Training Programme-”

And the doors slam open. There are a few shouts of protest, but everyone goes silent when Cat Grant enters the room. She strides down the aisle, and stops by Lillian's side.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, “this is all I could do.”

“Minister Grant,” the judge says, paling.

“Pardon my interruption,” Cat says loudly.

'... Interruption pardoned.”

“Thank you. By the power accorded me by the Ministry of Magic, I claim custody of the children Lex and Lena Luthor, and demand that Lillian Luthor be pardoned.”

The Aurors freeze. Cat levels them with a look that would cow the most fearless of the Dark Wizards.

“I have deemed that your purpose in sentencing Lillian Luthor is to secure custody of the children, and put them through the Auror Training Programme. I have deemed that an inappropriate use of the Ministry's funds, and also a violation of Bill 273, Section I, which states that wizarding children, except under extreme circumstances, should attend a registered wizarding school. And therefore, I claim custody for the administrative section of the Ministry, and refute that of the Aurors'.”

“Minister Grant, is this not an extenuating circumstance?” Durriban says, failing to hide his anger.

“Now it’s not.”

“The Auror Training Programme is registered as an educational programme-”

“Ah yes, the Auror Training Programme. While I do not have jurisdiction to shut that down yet, rest assured that I will someday. Now, is my custody claim approved?”

The judge turns a pasty shade of green. “Yes,” he croaks out, “I hereby sentence Lillian Luthor to life in Azkaban, and place the custody of Lena and Lex Luthor in the hands of Cat Grant, Minister of Magic.”

Cat frowns. “I wish to pardon Lillian Luthor from her sentence, based on a false accusation of murder.”

“Unacceptable!” shouts Durriban. “She is guilty! The Minister cannot pardon her!”

The judge looks between them, shaking. “A compromise, then,” he says weakly. “Either Lillian Luthor goes free and her children go to Durriban, or she goes to Azkaban and the Minister gets the children.”

“It’s alright,” says Lillian suddenly. “I will go to Azkaban.”

Cat frowns, but she gives them a tiny nod, and the judge bangs the gavel.

“Thank you,” Lillian says quietly to Cat, and then she kneels in front of Lena and Lex. “Miss Grant's going to take care of the two of you for a little while, alright? Be good for her.”

“When will you back?” Lena asks.

“I don't know. It might be some time.”

“But we gotta eat pizza! And Lex is finally getting over his anchovy phase.”

“It's not a phase!”

“Is too!”

“Behave!” Lillian scolds them. “Listen, I'll be back eventually. And you can eat pizza with Miss Grant.”

Lena and Lex trade looks. “But why do you have to go away?”

“The court thinks I did something bad.”

“But that's not fair!”

“Yes, but it is the way it is. Be good, you hear me?”

“Yes, Mum,” they chorus obediently, Lena's bottom lip trembling. Lillian gives them a shaky smile, and then Lena lets out a wail and launches herself at Lillian, nearly knocking her over.

“No!” she shouts. “You can't go away, you gotta stay with us!”

“Yeah!” Lex chimes in, leaping over to wrap his arms around her shoulders. “You gotta!”

“I'm afraid I can't, darlings,” she says. An Auror grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her up roughly; as she's yanked away, she looks over her shoulder and flashes a smile.

“Be good,” she says, as another Auror grabs the children to keep them from running away. And then she's gone, away to Azkaban.

Cat takes them to her apartment in London, gives them their room and a meal and doesn't try to avoid Lex's dark, hollow eyes.

When Lena is tucked in and sleeping fitfully, Cat sits down across from Lex at the table, pours herself a cup of tea and offers Lex one. He takes it.

“How could they do this?” he asks finally, and Cat gives him a tired, sad look.

“The Aurors are good, some of them,” she says. “But the ones in charge are not. They were scared of your mother, and they wanted you and Lena.”

“For what?”

“Your Luthor blood.”

“So he wants to lock us up and take our blood?”

“Durriban? Yes. That's what he would like to do.”

“But why were they scared of Mum?”

“She might not seem too scary to you,” Cat says, looking a little amused beneath the bags under her eyes, “but she's downright terrifying when she wants to be.”

“Well, she wouldn't do bad things to the Ministry, right? She used to be an Auror, right?”

“She would, if they took you two.”

Lex frowns. “So they locked her up so they could take us.”

Cat nods.

“And they pretended she killed those people.”

“Yes.”

“Were you a part of it?”

“No. But I knew the moment those bodies showed up.”

“Why didn't you stop it?”

Cat looks him dead in the eyes. “I have no excuses. All I can say is that I did not want to know it was true.”

Lex stares at her for a moment before rising and walking over to his room without a sound. Cat sighs quietly, flicks off the light, and melts away into the shadows.

 

The first night in Azkaban, the Dementor comes for her. Her wand has been taken, an anti-bleeding spell placed under her skin, magic-draining cuffs clapped onto her wrists.

The Dementor smiles, a soulless, gaping grin, and suddenly there's-  _Lex and Lena, screaming, Lena's face streaked with blood, crying and afraid,_ and she feels a desperate, yawning need to  _protect_ , to  _defend_ , and her magic writhes inside of her, trapped and draining, then suddenly a cry pierces the night- “No!” - and Azkaban explodes in a brilliant shattered burst of green magic. Her children bolt awake miles and miles away.

“ _M_ _um_ ,” Lena says, and Lex nods grimly.

The Azkaban guards stumble backwards, and then they're faced with an enormous Dementor, glowing a brilliant green over Lillian's unconscious body.

“Is that her  _Patronus_?” one shouts.

The Dementor sees them and roars, a shrill, hungry sound. It casts out a hand and spreads its ghostly fingers, sucking the soul out of all of them at once. It rumbles, pleased, glowing even brighter as the souls pour into its body.

Cat is there in an instant. wand drawn.

“Hell,” she says in astonishment, “What kind of a fucked-up Patronus is  _that_?”

The Dementor shrieks gleefully, racing toward her, and then-

“No!”

One of her Auror guards throws herself in front of Cat, taking a blow that goes right through her chest in a gaping hole.

“Oh, shit,” Cat says in a half-sob, “no, Merlin, why-”

“May!” A man sprints forward, leaping up and casting a restraining spell in midair, but the curse goes right through the Dementor, and it reaches down and easily plucks the man's soul out of his throat. He collapses in a heap, dead before he touches the ground.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she says, “Stay back, all of you!”

“Mum!”

Cat whips around, and sees a pale-faced Lex and a slightly green Lena clutching his arm.

“Did you Apparate here? How the hell do you know how to Apparate-”

The Dementor snarls, holds out its hand, and-

“ _V_ _iridans_!”

A dragon rises from the earth, glowing green, and the Dementor stops in its tracks, looks at it with an odd expression. There's a pause that seems to last forever; the dragon, calm and gentle, the Dementor, standing perfectly still, soul-stained hands fallen to its sides.

And then the Dementor reaches out, and sets a ghostly green hand on the dragon's hand. The dragon leans into it, then the Dementor backs away and disappears, its green mist fading back into Lillian's body.

“Merlin,” Cat breathes, looking at the bodies scattered in the Azkaban yard. She reaches out to press a hand to the dead woman's cheek, and closes the man's eyelids with a shaking hand.

The dragon dips its head, bows over the bodies, and dissipates.

 

The Olsens’ funeral happens two days later. A boy, just a little younger than Lena, sobs over the casket, clutching a little plush owl to his chest, and one of the aunts steps forward to pick him up. He beats his fists against her back, his sobs anguished, wrenching out of his body. It’s the only time Lena ever sees Cat cry, in quiet soft gasps that shake her entire body.

A month later, Lena ends up at Hogwarts.

“ _Hello_ ,” says the Sorting Hat. Its voice is jagged and hoarse, but there is something familiar about it, something gentle. “ _Aren't you something special, eh?”_

 _“Slytherin, please_ ,” Lena thinks politely, because Mum always told her to be polite when talking to someone you want something from, and-

“ _Y_ _our mother? Oh, yes. She turned out much better than they thought she might. Did you know that she was an Auror one year after she was sitting here?”_

“ _M_ _um graduated early_?”

“ _Y_ _es. The brightest witch of her age, she was. She invented twenty new spells in a day. Clever as the day is long.”_

“Sh _e never told me that!”_

“ _Y_ _es. Well, now she's in Azkaban, wrongly convicted. And you're worried about her, aren't you, little Luthor? Not a hint of conflict, either. You remember how she treated you at first, of course. Couldn't even look at you. Well, there's a reason for that, but I suppose it's not my place to tell you. Being omniscient really is quite horrible sometimes.”_

“ _Right. Er, what's my House again?”_

“ _A_ _h yes, your House. My old age keeps me distracted, you see. Well, how do you feel about Hufflepuff_?”

“I _look absolutely vile in yellow,”_ Lena's brain supplies, and the hat cackles- outwardly, too, and Professor Henshaw gives them an odd look.

  _Well, Gryffindor? I suppose you could pull off red and yellow.”_

 _“Mum's house, please,”_ Lena thinks.

“ _O_ _h, dear,”_ the hat says, sounding very surprised, “ _you didn’t know, did you? Your mother never had a House_.”

“ _No House?”_

_“She was an extenuating circumstance. I gave her a little room near the Room of Requirement where she could practice blood spells- oh, dear. That's supposed to be a secret, isn't it? Ah well.”_

_“Do I have a house?”_

_“Yes, dear. You will.”_

“What on earth is going on in there?” Professor Morse says with a frown.

“ _Slytherin could work, yes. You've got ambition, darling. And intelligence, and- oh dear. Well, little Luthor, I think you shall turn out just fine no matter which House I put you in. So- Ravenclaw or Slytherin?”_

_“I don't mind.”_

_“Lovely.”_

The hat twitches once, then opens the gaping rip of its mouth and shouts, “ _Ravenclaw_!”

Lena tugs the hat off of her head and walks over to the Ravenclaw table amid confused murmurs and cheers.

“Hey,” a boy says, leaning over. “What took so long? You were there for like ten minutes. What's up with that?”

“I suppose it’s a bit of a chatterbox,” Lena says.

The boy studies her, then beams and holds out a hand. “I'm Winn. I like science.”

“Lena. I like science too.”

“Cool!”

 

After the grand dinner- which is  _everything_ , and Lex waves at her excitedly from the Slytherins- Winn tugs her over to the Gryffindors.

“Hey, guys!” he shouts. “This is my fellow Ravenclaw, Lena!”

A boy, twelve years old and his back hunched, stiffens, turns halfway around to meet Lena's gaze. “Lena-?”

“Luthor,” she says, and the boy goes tense, his face darkening.

'Excuse me,” he mutters, and gets up, brushing by her as he strides out the doors of the Great Hall.

“Sorry,” Winn says, frowning. “James- he's- well, I don't know-”

“James- James  _Olsen_?”

“Yeah. Do you guys- oh. Did you fight or something?”

“No,” Lena says leadenly.

A girl turns around, and shoots them an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she says. “Hi! I'm Kara Danvers.”

Lena forgets how to speak.

“This is Lena!” Winn says cheerfully. “She's a Ravenclaw. She's pretty, isn't she?”

“Winn!” Kara says, smacking him with a grin and turning to Lena.

“Sorry,” she says. “He doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut.” And then she leans forward and grabs Lena's shoulder. “But that's our little secret,” and she smells really good and her eyes are blue and twinkling and her hair falls over her shoulder in a spill of sunshine and- well. Lena never even stood a chance.

Lex tugs her aside after the banquet, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “So I heard you've been getting on pretty well with the Gryffindor hero, eh?”

Lena gives him a blank look. He sighs.

“Danvers, you idiot. You know- blonde, looks happy all the time?”

“Oh. Danvers?” She goes red to her ears. “I don't- what even does  _getting on pretty well_ \- what are you-”

“Lena and Danvers, sitting in a- ow!”

“Shut your mouth,” Lena says, still blushing, and Lex just laughs.


	2. when everything goes to hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rip

James avoids her, gives her dark looks and stony silences on the one occasion that they're paired together. He says a few choice things to the gossips of the school, things about Lena’s magic and the darkness that shrouds her. Kara defends her fiercely, eyebrows pinched together and mouth turned down, but even she can’t do much about the whispers.

The moment Cat gets word, she's striding into Hogwarts, a mortified Lena trailing behind her.

“Minister Grant,” Kara says, eyes wide as saucers. “Oh, wow- Lena! She’s your _mum_?”

Cat scans the suddenly-silent Great Hall with a stony look, and then strides over to the head table, wraps a hand around Headmaster Malfoy’s collar, and lifts him straight up in the air. He shrieks, feet kicking, but she tightens her grip.

“Sagittarius Malfoy,” she drawls. “Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“ _Sagittarius_ -?”

“I have received some notice about some issues occurring under your administration. Here is-” and she slams an enormous scroll down next to him- “a comprehensive list. Do endeavour to fix them, or someone shall have to remove you from office.” She gives him a sinister smile. “I should hate to see that happen, Pisces.”

“My name isn’t-”

“That list includes abuse of power for private gain, embezzling funds, discrimination against non-purebloods, and- well. The list goes on, Capricorn. Of course I wouldn’t _want_ to publish it, but, well. We must all do what we can to promote a better society, no?”

And then she drops him back into his seat, and turns, surveying the Hall.

“James,” she says, and walks over to him, setting a hand on his head. “A word?”

The second the doors close behind them, the Hall erupts.

“Holy _shit_ ,” says Alex Danvers, “I can’t believe that the _Minister of Magic_ is your mum; Luthor, holy hell, that’s _Cat Grant_ ; when she was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team they never lost a game; she won the Cup for them three years in a row- she’s a strategy _genius_ -”

“I know!” Kara exclaims, “Alex bought a poster of her when they did that Auror highlight event with all the famous ones, she’s _so cool_ , a bunch of people reckon that she’s more powerful than Godric Gryffindor himself, because of the evolution of magic and such and she’s invented a whole new type of wordless magic and it’s no wonder she’s the Minister, some people say that she could beat a whole regiment of Aurors in two minutes _blindfolded_ -”

“And her ability with Charms is _legendary_ and her masking spells-” Winn says, awe in his eyes, “Merlin, I’ve wanted to meet her for the longest time-”

The doors open, and James comes back in, head down and eyes on the floor.

“Remember what I said, James,” Cat says, and then points at the Headmaster and smiles a bone-chilling grin. “You too, Aquarius.”

“My name isn’t-”

The door slams, and she’s gone.

Two months later, Minister Grant is announced as the new Headmaster of Hogwarts. She takes one look at Malfoy’s chambers, immediately deems them unfit, and summons a new tower.

The changes are noticeable.

Suddenly, there’s a lot more money to be had. Cat starts three new initiatives in her first week, for giving supplies to underprivileged young witches and wizards, one for looking into a counter-curse for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, and one for expanding the medical branch.

Madame Pomfrey, who is supposedly an immortal, swats- actually _swats_ \- Cat over the head.

“Took you long enough, child,” she says. Cat scowls. Lena gapes.

 

Cat calls Alex to her office once to discuss the Quidditch team. Alex comes out furiously red and looking like she’s about to swoon.

“She’s so _amazing_ ,” Alex breathes, steadying herself against the wall. “That magical aura- oh Merlin, I think I might faint.”

“Don’t expect me to catch you,” Kara says, and barely dodges the smack.

 

Cat looks more and more tired as the days wear on. She starts wearing two different Time Turners around her neck, then three. She doesn’t tell Lena or Lex that one of the versions of her spends all her nights in Azkaban, watching as Lillian goes steadily more and more insane.

 

A few years later, Lena’s a fifth year and still in love with Kara. It’s been one, maybe two, years, since Kara fell in love with her too. Alex is in her first year at university, having the time of her life. Cat is- well. Cat.

Lex, however, has changed. He starts disappearing from meals, cutting lunch and dinner to sit beneath the Quidditch pitch with a boy. Clark Kent, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and the love of every first year’s life. Lex steals Lena aside after one of those secret meetings, red to his ears and grinning.

“Lena,” he says, “Lena, Lena!”

“Merlin, Lex, stop shrieking. And really? Supply closet meetings? I have to get to class. OWLs are coming up and if I don’t get an Outstanding on all of them then I won’t be allowed to take the NEWTs early next year.”

“Clark kissed me.”

Lena blinks once. Twice. And then she lets out a screech.

“I knew it!” she shouts. “I knew he fancied you, I knew it!”

Lex squeals along with her. “He’s so tall, and gorgeous, and he leaned down when I came in and just kissed me and it was so _nice_ , his lips were so soft and I could feel his stubble and he blushed afterward and said, “I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time,” and oh, Lee, he’s so attractive and sweet, and he’s _built_ , too, have you seen that body- Merlin, I’d let him do-”

“You can stop there, Lex,” Lena says, wincing.

“Alright, alright. My bad.”

They look at each other for a moment, then Lena sighs and grabs him in a hug. He has a good foot on her now, but Lena gets her arms around his neck anyways.

“Oh, Lee,” he says, picking her up and spinning her around. “I’m so happy!”

“I’m happy for you too,” Lena responds, and then frowns. “Don’t go skipping our blood spell training sessions to make out with Captain Dreamboat, though.”

“I would never.”

“Good. Put me down now, though. I really do have to get to class.”

“You’re such a square,” Lex says affectionately, and puts her down.

 

The next morning, Clark and Lex walk in holding hands, and just before they part ways for their separate tables, Clark leans down and kisses him. There’s a beat of shocked silence, and then pandemonium floods the hall. A Ravenclaw girl starts bawling, and Winn looks close to it. The Gryffindor quidditch team is in uproar, surrounding Clark in a cloud of questions. The Hufflepuffs are all swooning. The Slytherins, meanwhile, are perfectly calm, still eating. One of them leans over and claps Lex on the back with a sly wink, but that’s about it.

“Damn,” Winn says morosely, poking at his toast. “Your brother got to him first, huh?”

“Cheer up, Schott,” Lena says cheerfully, shooting a blushing Lex a thumbs-up. “Look, I have a new prototype design for you to work on.”

He perks up. “Ooh. What is it?”

“A cloning charm.”

“Tell me everything.”

“Oh!” Kara says, sliding into the Ravenclaw table with a tray of food and greeting Lena with a kiss. “Is that the cloning charm you were working on yesterday?”

 

And Lena’s never been happier.

 

It’s at one of the Luthor training sessions, where it all started, when everything goes to hell.

Lex walks in five minutes late to the Room of Requirement, blonde hair dishevelled.

“You’re late,” Lena says, “so I’ve already set up the stuff. Which one do you want to do today?”

“Yes, sorry. Clark, come on in. This is the Room of-”

“Wait,” Lena says, staring at the dreamboat as he steps into the room and looks around with a wide-eyed gaze. “What?”

“I invited Clark,” Lex says, looking at her curiously. “Is that alright?”

Lena grits her teeth. “Lex, can I have a word with you? In private.”

She pulls him aside into the closet that appears in the wall. “Lex, what the hell?”

“What do you mean, “what the hell’? I trust him.”

“Lex, this is Luthors only. You _know_ that. Have I ever brought Kara here?”

“I’m in love with him! I know him!”

“I don’t care if you love him! The preparation spells are sacred; we’re supposed to protect them!”

“All of that stuff is elitist, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Yes, it absolutely is, but it’s the only thing that stops Durriban, or the Ministry, from just locking us up, stealing our blood, and giving it to people to cast spells with. Isn’t that what happened to Mum when she was our age?”

“Don’t bring Mum into this,” Lex says, scowling, and then gives her a pleading look. “Please, Lee. I promised him he could watch. He won’t do anything.”

Lena grits her teeth and sighs. “Fine. But only once, you hear me? This can’t happen again.”

“Okay. I promise.”

So now, dreamboat boy is watching her run her wand along the veins in her wrist, murmuring the spell that activates her blood. Dreamboat boy is watching her intently as she recites the spells that have been passed down by word of mouth over generations, never written down. Dreamboat boy’s pretty baby blue eyes are fixed on her as she bites her thumb, flicks a drop of blood onto the ground, and murmurs “ _conchylium_.” Dreamboat boy’s gaze only wavers from her when the clone of Lex springs up from the ground and Lex laughs, loud and exultant.

Lex casts a _luteus_ to show off and nearly hits Lena with the resulting lightning bolt. She rolls to the side to dodge, but it latches onto her, and she’s forced to bite her thumb again and cast a reverse _luteus_ to get rid of it.

Dreamboat boy is watching, taking it all in.

 

(Later, Lena will say to Kara, trembling in the deathly night, that she should have stopped him at the very first session, that she should have pushed Clark Kent out of her life the moment he stepped foot in it.)

 

Lex breaks his promise. Dreamboat boy shows up for two more sessions, and it’s after the last one that Lena snaps.

“No more, Lex,” she says.

“But he’s been so good!”

“No. Lex, I can’t do this. I can’t practice in front of him. I won’t.”

Dreamboat boy, denied access to the sessions, starts asking questions- “Just to clear it up,” he says- and Lex answers every one to the best of his knowledge. And then, when dreamboat boy has compiled all the knowledge there is on blood spells- that’s when everything goes to hell.

Lena and Lex are sitting at their respective tables, eating dinner, when the great doors are kicked down and a group of Aurors, dressed in full tactical gear, flood the hall. They surround Lena in one quick burst of magic, ripping Kara from her side. Lex gets yanked into a floating bubble that shoves him into a fetal position. His eyes widen in panic, meeting Lena’s, as he struggles to push his way out of the bubble. Lena knows just how claustrophobic he gets, and she reaches out to help him, but an Auror shoves her hand down.

Durriban walks in, head up and shoulders back, and flicks open a scroll.

“Judge and Jury, enter,” he says, and a group of wizards enter the hall. It’s a different judge, but definitely the same jury from Lillian’s trial.

“What in the name of Merlin is happening?” demands Professor Wortley.

“The trial of Lex and Lena Luthor.”

A series of shocked gasps, echoing around the room. No one’s doing anything. No one _can_ do anything. Cat’s gone for a meeting, with all but two of the professors, who had been left behind for mealtime supervision. They’re powerless against a full regiment of Aurors. Lena feels tears stinging at her eyes- they’re fucked, they’re well and truly fucked.

“For what, exactly?” asks Professor Morse.

“The use of forbidden blood spells to injure, kill, and maim.”

"Like hell it is," Professor Morse growls, lifting her wand, but an Auror shoves her down, casting a spell that secures her in a bubble.

“Proceed,” says the judge, sliding into Cat’s seat. “Durriban, sir, call your witness.”

“Clark Kent,” says Durriban, and smiles. “Please rise.”

Dreamboat boy stands up from his seat. Lex stares at him in disbelief, confused. There are more murmurs, louder than ever.

“What is in that scroll?” Durriban asks. It’s clearly scripted.

“I have here,” he says, opening the scroll, “the comprehensive documentation of how to cast a Luthor blood spell.”

“Fuck,” Lena whispers. Lex looks confused and terrified and heartbroken all at once, still staring at Clark.

Durriban grins, eyes fixating on that scroll. “And have you ever seen someone be injured, or potentially injured, by Luthor blood spells?”

“Yes. Defendant one, by the name of Lex Luthor, injured his own sister with a blood spell known as ‘ _luteus_ ’. And, of course, Lillian Luthor, who murdered several Aurors in cold blood a few years ago with the same ‘ _luteus_ ’ that injured Lena Luthor. Furthermore, he cast several blood spells in my company outside of their training room, many of which could possibly have caused injury to other students, and one of which that did.”

“Which was?”

“The _conchylium_ spell, used on another student, which was used to break a different student’s nose.”

Everyone looks over to Marty Blume, who touches his nose and frowns in disbelief. (Lena remembers. Marty had shoved Lena into the wall, murmuring, ‘fucking scum,’ and Lex had cast the _conchylium_ before Lena could stop him.)

“I object!”

Kara Danvers, only a fifth year but powerful enough to take down an Auror. Kara, the selfless, brave, wonderful angel, the little sister of Hogwarts. She gets up on her chair, standing high enough that Lena can see her from within her cloud of Aurors surrounding her, and repeats herself.

“I object!”

“Objection,” says the judge. Durriban frowns.

“Firstly, this is not a registered courtroom,” Kara says. “Therefore, no legitimate trial may be conducted here, and no punishment is legally obligated to be carried out. Secondly, there is no lawyer for the defendants” side. Thirdly, Section III of Law XXIV.XI, which is still in action, informs us that in trials of purebloods in serious crimes unrelated to war, the Minister of Magic must be present. All of the above render this trial obsolete. Also, all of you are cowards- especially you, Clark.”

“Kara-” Clark starts, but he’s cut off by a voice from the Gryffindor table.

“I object!” comes another shout, and none other than James Olsen, shoulders back in defiance, stands up. “This 'court case' is bullshit.”

“Me too!” “Me too!” “I object!” until the whole Hall is on their feet. Clark gets pushed out of the way, shoved down and sneered at by the Gryffindors at his table. Someone rips the scroll out of his hands and tosses it to Kara, who burns it in a wordless flash of fire.

Durriban looks confused, gaping at all the people on their feet. The Auror troops look unsure about who to threaten; a first year smashes a glass of pumpkin juice over an Auror’s head, and starts an all-out riot, shoving the Aurors away and pulling Lex and Lena out of their prisons.

And then the doors blow open, and Cat Grant, in all her Minister-of-Magic-Hogwarts-Headmaster glory, sweeps into the room.

Silence.

“What the _hell_ is the meaning of this?” she booms, voice echoing around the vast hall.

“An illegal trial, Headmaster,” Kara responds, her voice steady. Cat looks at her for a moment before turning to Durriban.

“A trial?”

“Using Clark Kent to spy on the Luthors and develop a scroll with the procedure for making a Luthor blood spell, which has been burned,” Kara answers. Clark frowns at her from across the room, but she pointedly ignores him.

“And this was done through what method?”

“He came to our training sessions,” Lena says. Lex is still in shock, staring at Clark.

“And Clark?” Cat asks, gaze hard and flinty. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

He gulps, but rises, ignoring the jeers from the Hall. “I became close with Lex Luthor over some time, in order to obtain an invitation to the training sessions and observe for myself the danger of the blood spells.”

“We are all aware of the nature of that closeness, Mr. Kent. Do tell me- did the Aurors recruit you before or after you had felt something for Mr. Luthor?”

 _You don’t need to ask that question_ , Lena thinks, but Clark is already shaking his head.

“Before,” he says. “I felt nothing.”

 

And that, for Lex, is the end of it all.

 

He stops coming to their training sessions. Keeps his head down in the hallway. Ignores the sympathetic murmurs. Stops talking to Lena, stops talking to people from other Houses, especially Gryffindors, stops going to Hogsmeade. Starts skipping class to spend time in the Slytherin dungeons with the descendants of the haughty, vengeful purebloods that fought on Voldemort’s side.

The last time that Lena sees him before the change is in a supply closet, where she pulls him aside. He’s lost weight from never coming to meals, looks gaunt and pale, with some enormous anger simmering in his chest.

“No Auror can ever be trusted,” he says, those spring-green eyes dark and vengeful. “They’re filthy all the way to the top. They went after Mum, now they’re going after you and me. There’s no way to stop them, Lena, except to just kill them all.”

“Lex-” she starts, but he shakes his head, opens the door.

“Go to class,” he says. “You’ll be late.”

 

She should have stayed, should have kept him from running away with the purebloods, should have kept him from learning the Unforgivables, should have saved him from himself. But she doesn’t. She goes to Potions, sits through Professor Morse’s lecture with a numb, sinking feeling of dread deep in her stomach, laughs at Winn’s jokes without really hearing them. Kara asks her if she’s alright, and she forgets to say “yes”.

 

Lex disappears on a Friday night. On Sunday, Cell 1517 is broken into, and its occupant is released. Cat doesn’t get there fast enough; by the time she arrives, wand in hand, Lillian Luthor is gone without a trace.

It makes headlines. The Daily Prophet is scandalised; Clark Kent, golden boy, who has been iced out of the Quidditch team and booed out of classrooms, reports that it was Lex Luthor’s doing.

And then-

Nothing. Neither of them resurface. There are no reports of wizards recruited, no reports of suspicious activity, no sightings of either. The Ministry posts an Auror (approved by Cat) at Lena’s bedside, and they see nothing for the months that they spend there.

Years pass by. Lena and Kara and Winn and James graduate from Hogwarts, caps thrown high in the air. Kara goes to Alex’s university and specialises in wordless magic; Winn and Lena go to the same university; both of them major in creation of new magic. Kara and Lena Apparate between each others’ dorms, giving each other tours of their universities and making out like the lovestruck teenagers they are.

Three years later, Kara is recruited to become the captain of her own Auror squad, and so is James. Alex, who heads her regiment, gives her a sisterly shove when she sees her in the halls. Lena and Winn work as freelancers, refining their Hogwarts charms from duelling into tools for the Ministry and others. Everything is fine.

 

And then Durriban dies.

 

A _luteus_ , through his heart. This one isn’t faked. They bring Lena onto the scene, as the last Luthor still on the “good side’. She crouches by the body, and immediately smells the lightning on his skin. It holds the scent of Lillian’s magic.

“Is it real?” Alex asks.

Lena bites her thumb and lets the drop of blood fall onto his chest. It burns bright yellow for a moment, and then dissipates.

“Yes,” she says. “It’s real.”

“Well,” Alex says after a moment. “Shit.”


	3. when in every waking dream she loves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> look i know i said this was gonna be 3 chapters but idk how to count so :/

The Luthors and the Ministry. Cat’s not sure if she should just flip a coin and see who dies first.

Lex, at least, has motivations. Anger, hatred, betrayal. But the dementors in Azkaban have warped Lillian’s tragic brilliance into something more like a weapon.

Or perhaps she was always that way.

 

Cat passes the time (the terrible endless slog of war, always boring, always boring, and no news is good news, really) by breaking into the Luthor mansion and reading the few things Lillian left out. The place is trashed, she notes, when she walks in, books scattered everywhere with pages ripped out, bookshelves and tables and chairs overturned, floorboards and ceilings ripped out. She doesn’t touch anything, sure that the Aurors didn’t trip all of Lillian’s wards.

The mess ends when Cat walks right through a doorway into another, smaller room and finds it clean, untouched. There’s a bunkbed in the corner, a dictionary and a globe laid out. Posters on the walls. One of Cat, unexpectedly, which recognises her and waves with a sly wink and a finger over its mouth.

She resists the urge to give herself the middle finger and looks around curiously. Surely the Aurors would have found this place, and trashed it too. Unless-

She steps back into the doorway, and sees it. The faintest glimmer, near her toe. A glamour, maybe? Some kind of spell that might keep anyone from thinking anything was there. Enough to trick even a group of trained Aurors, the best brains the Ministry could find. She recognises the glimmer from somewhere, and thinks it over methodically until she alights on something. She’s known Lillian Luthor to be fond of Hogwarts, maybe enough that she’d even-

Cat spins on her heel and sprints across the hall and- _through the wall_ \- and right into another room.

And there she is.

“Hello, Cat,” says Lillian Luthor.

“Merlin’s balls,” says Cat.

“I’m a hologram, don’t worry,” Lillian responds, and then adds, “Mostly,” as an afterthought, which isn’t much help. Cat blinks when she proceeds to sink through the chair and then bob back up again and shimmer back to permanence, waving her hands in a ‘ta-da’ motion.

Oh, they’re fucked. They are well and truly fucked, and the Minister of Magic is alone in a room with the hologram of the Brightest Witch of Her Age, the Houseless Master of Hogwarts, et cetera. More importantly, Cat Grant is alone in a room with a hologram of Lillian Luthor, who is smiling, and she can’t remember the last time she’d been alone with Lillian Luthor (with neither of them unconscious or half-dead).

(Well, that’s a lie, actually. She remembers the last time perfectly clearly.)

“I thought you’d figure it out,” Lillian says. She’s fiddling with something- not a tennis ball. A Snitch, which has a little red heart painted on it. It’s an absentminded motion, endearing almost.

“You don’t have the scars,” Cat says dumbly. It’s been a while since she was lost for words, but Lillian’s face looks like she’s twenty again, her hands still calloused but without the gashes and scrapes from the dirty Azkaban floor, and Cat is struck by the difference.

“Well, of course I don’t. It’s been years, Cat. Whatever scars I have don’t exist yet. I’ve been living in here for something like- well, I don’t know. I forgot to give a damn about time after a month or two in. But look, Cat!”

She points up, and Cat looks, which is stupid- never bare your throat to an enemy- and sees hundreds, maybe a thousand, little Snitches. When her gaze falls on them, their wings flutter.

“I’ve been building fully sentient Snitches,” Lillian says, and smirks in a way that is probably supposed to be impressive (but fails, frankly.) This Lillian Luthor has yet to be dragged into the mess of Lionel Lycroft and Ministry politics, and is still at home among piles of gears and machinery and spellwork in the Luthor family mansion. Fresh out of university and glowing with brilliance, able to be intimidating but only when pressed. Cat had been similar then, too.

“How?” Cat asks, voice trembling despite herself.

“Well,” Lillian says, drawing it out, “I was experimenting with a spell that had the same properties as a Time Turner, and I managed to create a separate timeline within ours. So me- this me, that is- is a product of a different timeline that was all the same up until I was dragged into this world. It was quite a shock to see my own mug looking back at me when the sparks disappeared.”

“Everything was the same?”

“Yes.” Lillian smiles, opening her hands and letting the Snitch flutter away. Her eyes lock with Cat’s; she tips her head to the side and gives her a speculating look. “Even you, Cat.”

“And now you’re here?”

“Yes. For years and years. Without aging, either, because it doesn’t quite work the same way in this timeline. Most of the rules don’t apply. I can be physically intangible-” she passes her hand through the desk- “or corporeal.” She solidifies in her seat, kicking her feet up onto the desk.

“So why are you still here?”

Lillian spreads her fingers, holding her palm out, and a Snitch drops from the sky and lands in her hand. “I wanted to stay,” she responds simply. “Besides, it was me who cast that glamour, and I wanted to see if anyone would figure it out.”

The shimmering glamour- like that of Platform 9¾, except different in some way.

“Like Platform Nine and Three-Quarters,” Lillian says approvingly, almost as if she’d read Cat’s mind. “But this one’s to ward off magical blood, instead of Muggle blood.”

“And me?”

“We both know the answer to that,” Lillian responds. “Don’t we? It’s the faerie blood, Cat- mixed with a little Veela. Fae can see easily through glamours, but they’d never be let through the doors. And of course Veela have a knack for sensing the presence of magic. It’d take a wizard with faerie and Veela blood to get to me.” (“I designed it for you,” she doesn’t say, but it’s heard loud and clear.)

“I want something from you,” Cat says, suddenly and bluntly. The Snitch in Lillian’s hands beats its wings once, a thrash of white feathers. She opens her fingers, and it flies to Cat, circling once around her head as a cat would brush against her legs.

“You’ve wanted quite a lot from me, Cat, and I’ve given most of it.”

“I need to know your greatest weakness,” Cat says. Lillian’s eyes narrow on hers, head tilting, and then she stands from the chair, walking through the desk and solidifying just as she reaches Cat. She’s taller, as she’s always been, Cat’s head tilting back to meet her gaze.

“And why the hell would I tell you that?”

“The Aurors put you in Azkaban,” Cat blurts out, in a breathless rush of words. “I tried to stop them, but- you have children now, a boy and a girl, named Lex and Lena, and the Ministry tried to take them from you, and they framed you for murder, and even with the power of the Minister, they still locked you up, and you went to Azkaban with head held high but I _couldn’t_ leave you there, so every sunrise I snuck you out from your cell and into the light, but I had to put you back every night and you got worse and worse, and using the Time Turner fucked all my dreams up, and then at some point Lex broke you out and now there’s a war, between the Ministry and the Luthors- Lena’s on the Ministry side, she has this girl who’s of the El family- and all of them are rooting for me to sink a spell through your back, but I _can’t_ , Lilli-“ and at that a sob, choked down for years, rises unbidden through her throat, “I can’t kill you.”

“Cat,” Lillian sighs, and places a gentle hand on her cheek. Her fingers are calloused from her tinkering, her thumb scarred from the blood spells cast, and the touch is a familiar one.

“Please,” Cat says, throat closing.

“I don’t have one,” Lillian says softly. “What others call weakness, I call strength. Those children- they are not a point of weakness. If I raised them as I hope I would, they would not be weak, anyways.”

“Lillian-”

“Rabbits,” Lillian says, carefully. “I’ve always had a soft spot for bunny rabbits.”

Cat smiles, a little sadly. “I remember.” The meaning isn’t lost on either of them.

“And this El girl?” Lillian inquires, her hand dropping.

Cat’s smile is wider. “She’s a darling. Her name is Kara, and her specialty’s air.”

Lillian’s brow furrows, her mind working. “I have a few prototypes for spells which I might like to try out-”

“Lillian,” Cat groans exasperatedly. “She’s dating your daughter, don’t bully her.”

“Right, right.” Lillian smiles distractedly. “Look, I’ll come with you. If anyone can find a compromise with me, it’s myself.”

“Okay,” Cat says slowly, and offers a hand.

Lillian takes it, and they walk out of the Luthor castle into the light.

 

It takes the Aurors a moment, but every single one of them recognises Lillian Luthor, even if her hair is longer and her face is unmarked by lightning scars. Every single person in the group of regiment leaders has their wands out in moments. Cat steps in front of her, and orders them to stand down with a look.

“This isn’t our Lillian,” she explains. “This is Lillian Luthor from a different timeline. She’s-”

“Twenty-one years old,” Lillian cuts in, pushing Cat lightly away from in front of her. “Look, I understand your precautions. Here. Alex Danvers, right?”

Alex Danvers (older sister of Kara, and Lillian wants those prototypes tested, so she’s going to have to do anything she can) nods, hiding her starstruck look under a wary expression. (Lillian Luthor had been on the first Hogsmeade Chocolate Frog she’d ever bought, winking out with the same unmarred face and arched eyebrows.)

“Here,” Lillian says, and tosses her a wand. “It’s my wand. Elder wood, phoenix tail feather, sixteen inches.”

“This isn’t Ollivander’s,” Alex says, turning it over. Lillian awards her with a beam.

“You’re right, it’s not. I made it myself, though the phoenix was astonishingly difficult to track down. It’s not Albus Dumbledore’s Elder Wand, don’t worry.”

The wand trembles in Alex’s grasp, and jumps out of her hands, hovering somewhere above her.

“It has a mind of its own,” Lillian says half-apologetically, “but I’ll let you cast a _Priori Incantatem_ whenever you’d like.”

“I don’t understand,” says one of the Head Aurors, frowning at her. “You look so young.”

“I didn’t age,” Lillian says, flashing him a disarming smile. “I’m not entirely corporeal sometimes, either. Part of the perks of being from a different timeline.”

“Excellent,” says another regiment leader. “Are you on our side?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure what that side is, but given that you all have wands and I don’t, I’m going to say yes.”

It’s a joke- she winks, and none of the Aurors quite know how to respond to a Lillian Luthor that seems more quick-witted rapscallion than insane murderer.

“Also, may I see this daughter of mine?” she asks, and Alex frowns.

“Of course,” Cat cuts in. “The young Miss Luthor is in her lab as we speak, if the scheduling is correct.”

“Yeah-” Alex starts, and then goes red when everyone looks at her. “I’m just going to warn you that Kara went in there this morning, so, er, knock before you enter.”

“Right,” Cat says after a moment, choosing to ignore the way Lillian’s expression turns to pure delight.

 

Thankfully, nobody is naked when they enter the lab. Kara’s perched on the counter, engrossed in something Lena’s explaining, hands flying in a ballet of fingers. Cat hangs back from the doorway. She’s still trying to figure out a diplomatic way to get their attention when Lillian beats her to it.

“Hello,” Lillian says, and both of them swivel.

Lena turns white, falls back against the counter. Kara steps in front of her, a puzzled frown on her face.

“Mum,” Lena gasps out.

“Well, not really. I mean, sort of. I’m only twenty-one, and half-corporeal. But I _am_ Lillian Luthor. And you must be Lena.”

“Prove it,” Kara says sharply, her wand already drawn.

“Alright,” Lillian says, shrugging, and bites her thumb. “Luthor blood spell. _Luteus_!”

Lightning comes to life around her hands, a drop of blood igniting into a spark. In a graceful, sudden movement, Lillian puts her fist through the nearest countertop, and pulls it out unscathed.

“Oh, damn you Luthors and your dramatic costly tendencies,” Cat says, finally coming forward at the blatant and unnecessary property damage. “ _Rubeus_ this, _luteus_ that. From now on, every time one of you spills your blood in the Ministry, you owe me a hundred galleons. That budget expansion cost me thirty nights of sleep, and now all our emergency funds are being diverted to replacing things.”

“That’s the modified _luteus_ ,” Lena confirms after a pause, in which both Luthors ignore Cat completely. “It’s not quite as advanced as Mum’s current one, but the basic elements are similar. It really is you.”

“It’s me. Tell me about this advanced _luteus_.”

“Well,” Lena starts hesitantly, “it’s a very developed spell, that- actually, I’ll just show you first? I formed it myself after seeing my mum- you- perform it several times. Here, look.”

She sinks her teeth into her thumb, lets the blood drip into her palm. “Luthor blood spell,” she murmurs. “ _Luteus_!”

Lena raises her fist, lightning arcing in a superheated knot around her closed hand. She watches it for a moment, entranced, before her eyes snap to Cat’s. There’s something different about her.

Cat frowns. “Lena, are you-”

Lena takes two strides forward and buries her lightning fist in Cat’s chest with a howl and the smell of burning flesh. The last thing Cat sees is her eyes, turned yellow and cold.

 

She wakes up, alone and cold, in her bed, a phantom pain burning in her chest.

The first thing she does is cry.

The second thing she does is owl the Auror spymaster to inquire as to what wards had been discovered in the Luthor mansion, and also whether or not she might be able to drop by and take a look.

No sign of Lillian Luthor, hologram or not, young or not. The only thing Cat finds is a room with high, vaulted ceilings, light pouring in from stained glass windows, and an enormous book on the floor.

On top of the book rests a single Golden Snitch. It's broken- when Cat brushes the waxy feathers of its wings, it doesn't stir.

She cradles it in her hands, careful with the delicate wings, and goes to the Ministry library to find out how the hell to fix a broken Snitch.


End file.
